


Letting Go

by Daydrmin46



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Longing, Romance, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-19 05:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17595128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydrmin46/pseuds/Daydrmin46
Summary: You are a 6th year Hogwarts students who is learning to find themselves, and finds a forbidden crush along the way. As a gifted potions student and a Hufflepuff that doesn't quite fit the mold, you can't help but capture your professors attention - but are either of you willing to cross the line?Note that there will be some major changes to the original story, particularly at the end!Rated M for language and future sexual content





	1. An Art-form

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic! Professor Snape has his issues, but I just can't help being in love! Hope you like the story, comments and feedback are very welcome!
> 
> First two chapters are a lot of lead up, more snape - character in chapter 3 :)

The musty air was stale, and the rain could be heard hitting the ground outside the slits for windows around the the top edge of the wall to your left. As your professor listed the steps necessary in brewing a potion you knew well, you find yourself daring to glance out the tiny window, watching the water trickle down the window pane. You always loved the rain. 

Your attention snaps back when you hear, “Wrong again, Mr. Longbottom. How disappointing.” Professor Snape droned. 

A deep sigh and you’re immediately back to daydreaming. It wasn’t that you didn’t try to pay attention, you just found it impossible to resist getting lost in your own head. And it was something the potions classroom that lulled you into dreamy comfort - ironically the opposite effect it had on most students. But the dim lighting, Professor Snape’s slow, deep voice, and the fact that the other students never dared to speak in more than a whisper was the perfect storm. Luckily, you were naturally gifted in the craft, but that didn’t stop your fairly consistent tendency to get points taken away or to end up detention for not paying attention. 

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Professor Snape began, startling you out of your thoughts, “Would you care to inform us what ingredient comes next?”

It would help if in that moment you could recall the ingredient he just said. Or what potion he was referring to at all. Shit. You decide to take a chance with the most basic contribution you can think of and reply, “Standard ingredient?”

Snape rolled his eyes, “Pity. If you were going to make a fool of yourself by guessing, I would have hoped it be something more interesting. 10 points from Hufflepuff, and I would advise you to pay attention or you’ll be making up the time you’re wasting this evening.” His voice was bored, unimpressed. Damn. 

A few snickers from the Slytherin boys at the next table and you kick yourself. For someone so bright, Snape was right, you had a knack for making a fool of yourself. But that’s ok, you think, I’ll make it up. You straighten your back, ready to prove yourself, as your professor announces, “Turn to page 262 and follow the instructions to brew the Drought of Peace. If you any of you can manage to make it correctly, I’ll take some in effort to overcome my disappointment in the rest of you.” 

The moment he finished his sentence, you were on it, carefully snaking around the hoard of other students, gathering the ingredients and setting up your station. You may daydream during lectures, but when it came to brewing, you were in the zone. While other students were caught up in memorizing ingredient lists, you’d studied the ingredients themselves, learning the properties and functions of each one. If you knew what a potion did, chances were you could guess your way into brewing it correctly. It was intuition, a feeling, an art form - something many others failed to understand. After a deep breath, you started pouring.

The Draught of Peace was a difficult potion to brew. All ingredients had to be added in a very specific order, and then stirred exactly the right number of times, with exactly the right level of heat - but precision was your gift. While others were grinding moonstone, you were pouring your finished product into a bottle. You took liberties in altering the ingredients. It was a dangerous move, but your success lay in your willingness take risks and modify the existing potions. You couldn’t help but smile at the masterpiece before you - a smile that was quickly wiped away as you noticed Snape begin walking your way. It didn’t matter if you knew the potion was perfect - didn’t matter if you were confident in what you created - Professor Snape never failed to make you nervous. Part of you craved his approval for reasons you could never explain.

After carefully scrutinizing your potion, his expression momentarily softens, and you catch him looking almost pleased. “Well done, Ms. Y/L/N,” he states just above a whisper. “You may go.”

Luckily he swiftly walked away to correct a gryffindor who was about to light their hair on fire, and didn’t see your face turn pink. Quite pleased with yourself, you swiftly gathered your things and left, not letting yourself dwell on how your professor’s compliments make you feel.


	2. Forgotten Leaves

Delicately, you trim the leaves of your plant at the base of the stem, and collect them in the bowl beside you. Herbology remained your favorite class, second only to potions. It was interesting, if you really thought about it, how your two favorite classes were so very opposite in nature. Your love for the dark space, eerie atmosphere, and high accountability of the potions room was reflected in no way in the greenhouse. Here, it was the warmth of the sun through the entirely windowed space, the fresh smell of plant life and earth, and the cheery nature of Professor Sprout that made you smile. You were a Hufflepuff, afterall; it was more strange that you were also so drawn to the dark. But that had always been true, for you. While your peers in your house seemed to radiate light, you were so often intrigued by the dark, and those who loomed within it. 

Unlike potions, you are one of the last to finish. There was no rush here. Sprout would be pleased with whatever you accomplished, and you liked to take your time with plant care - you knew it sounded crazy but you swear plants responded better when you were calm and took your time, like they could sense your energy. And so you did just that, took your time and trimmed with precision. You read a study once that plants grew faster and healthier when kind words were spoken to them, so when you could be sure no one was listening, you whispered to them. You were destined to be the crazy plant lady whose home looked like a forest one day, and you had come to terms with it. 

At last you finished and cleaned up your area, realizing you were the last to leave. On your way, Sprout stopped you and asked with a smile “Ms. Y/L/N, would you mind doing me just a tiny favor?”

“Of course, Professor!” You reply

Her smile widens as she states, “Professor Snape asked me to bring him the leaves we trimmed in class today - he is running low - but I need to get the greenhouse set up for my next class. Would you be a dear and bring these to him? You have potions later today, is that right?”

“Oh, yes Professor, right after lunch. I don’t mind at all!” You met your Professor’s smile, you could never say no to her. 

After putting the pouches in your bag, you hurried off to lunch and slide down next to Ally, one of your closest friends. 

“Where have you been?” She asked through bites of pumpkin custard, her favorite. 

“Herbology,” You reply flatly, it required no more explanation.

“Ah, of course,” She responded with a quick, playful eye roll. Running her finger along the inside of the ramkin and sucking it clean, she placed down her empty container and faced you completely. “So we haven’t talked about our trip to Hogsmeade this weekend! I was thinking we could go early and get coffee Witches’ Brew, then window shop for a while, I need a new scarf, then get butterbeer with Tara at the Three Broomsticks - she can’t meet us until later because she has practice all morning.”

Ally’s enthusiasm was contagious and impossible to say to no to. You hesitated though, you had to be careful. You could never figure out how everyone around you could seem to afford so many lavish weekend trips to the nearby town, you were starting to run low on money. Not wanting the innocent, well-meaning pity that followed that confession, you simply smiled and said, “Sounds perfect!” 

Ally went on to describe her morning and how her transfiguration attempts kept leaving her with whiskered cauldrons. You listened and laughed as you ate your lunch, mind wandering slightly as she went on. Your eyes wandered up to the bright sky above, and the way sun speckled the decor, and over to the table in the front of the room, where several professors sat having casual conversations. The one you didn’t realize you were looking for, however, was missing. 

Crap. He was missing. Because he was in class. Where you should be. 

Cutting Ally off mid-sentence, you exclaim, “Oh my god! Ally, I’m so sorry, I’m late for potions! I forgot I was late to lunch and didn’t have as much time as I thought!”

Ally looked at you with fear and pity. She was terrified of Snape. His lack of warmth, harsh criticism, and snarky comments cut right through her. “Oh god, go, GO!” 

You grabbed your things and ran out of the great hall and down to the dungeons, nearly taking out two other students and tripping down the stairs on your way. You slid into class just as the door was closing. Perfect, right on time.

“5 point from Hufflepuff, Ms. Y/L/N. Now sit. Down.” Snape announced immediately upon your entry. Not quite on time then.

You squeezed past the mildly annoyed faces of your fellow Hufflepuffs to find a seat. That’s twice this week you managed to lose points in potions, you had to be more careful. 

The lecture was short today, and quickly the sounds of chairs scraping and footsteps shuffling indicated it was time to work. An antidote to common poisons, easy enough. You add your mistletoe berries and unicorn horn accordingly. As you get ready to add the final touch, you feel a body slam into you, knocking the vial out of your hand and into your potion. You whip around in a fury to determine what just happened. 

There, you see Neville’s wide-eyed, apologetic face staring back at you. “I’m so sorry, “Y/N! I’m so clumsy, I think I just ruined your potion!”

Eyeing the snickering Slytherin boys at the next table, you take a deep breath and calm yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, it was just Neville, he is embarrassed enough as it is. And you would hate to get him into trouble by scolding him anyway, Snape had already made several snide comments about his, honestly, monstrosity of a potion today. Instead, you give him a reassuring smile and inform him, “No, honestly, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” 

His appreciative expression is thanks enough, and you give him a pat on the shoulder, turning back to what’s left your potion. A disaster. Fishing out the vial you think, if you work quickly, you could ditch this batch and brew a new one before Snape even notices. 

That is, until you hear, “Daring to be late to class, and then brewing….this” Professor drawls, standing over you. It takes you a moment to even look up, dread a sinking weight in your stomach. When you meet his eyes you feel like he can see straight through you. “It’s like you are trying to disappoint me Ms. Y/L/N. Perhaps an evening of detention will set your straight. Tonight, eight o’clock.” 

Knowing there was no point in arguing, you reply, defeated “Yes, Professor.” But he was already gliding away. 

You clean up the mess in front you and leave with the rest of the students. As you make it down the hall, however, you realize you had one job, and you managed to forget that too. The leaves from Herbology still sat in your bag. Well, at least you’ll have another chance tonight.


	3. Detention

Determined to redeem yourself, or at least not make matters worse, you left the common room at 7:30, knowing it would only take you about 5 minutes to walk back to the potions room. Bag full of leaves in tow, you swiftly make your way through the dungeons and find the classroom unlocked, but empty. That works for you, you wanted to be early, but not spend an extra 25 minutes in detention. 

Dropping your bag on a table in the front, you slow start to pace around the room. Theoretically, you could use this time to finish up your history essay, but that seems like a problem for future you. Instead, you wander up to one of the dusty bookshelves in the corner behind the desk, and run your fingers along the spines. Picking a book at random, you open to the middle and inhale deeply at the scent of old pages and binding. The book holds complex potions, with intricate drawings of bizarre ingredients and embellished cauldrons. Some of these potions you’ve never heard of before. You study the next few pages carefully, absorbing the foreign recipes and pondering their uses. 

“Being early to detention doesn’t counteract your tardiness from earlier Ms. Y/L/N,” You hear from the door, snapping back to reality. 

“I know, I just….”

“There are cauldrons that need scrubbing. You are to clean them all, and I want them spotless. No magic,” He nodded to enormous line of pewter cauldrons lining the wall by a large sink. Damn. 

“Yes, sir, but first, I’m supposed to give…” You start, scurrying over to you bag and digging inside.

“Cauldrons.”

Realizing there was no point in arguing you simply pull out the leaves, place them on the desk in front of him, and whisper, “From Professor Sprout” before making your way over to the sink and rolling up your sleeves. 

You hear a soft sigh behind you, but not a word as you start washing. One cauldron down. Two. Five. You’re making progress. Ten. Twelve. Your arms are getting tired. Fifteen. 

Finally, you hear “Wasted Potential.” stated clearly behind you, so suddenly it makes you jump, splashing half a cauldron full of water on yourself in the process. 

“Huh?” You sputter, turning around to face him, now dripping. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Wasted. Potential.” He repeats slowly and clearly, glaring at you. 

“I….uh...I’m sorry, what?” Still stammering. Where is this coming from? Were you just talking to yourself and didn’t realize it? Did he say something to you and you missed it? 

“Are you deaf, or just slow?” He mocked. But a moment later, his expression softened, just slightly, to your baffled expression. “You are clearly the most gifted witch of your age when it comes to potions. For years, you’ve brewed perfect potions, even improving on the basic-level skills presented in the book. Without prompting, you quietly took risks, and outperformed all others in your year, possibly in the school. And yet, here you are, carelessly destroying even the most basic of potions. Settling for mediocrity. I expected more. I should have known better.”

For a moment, you just stared. His words hit you hard; exactly his intention, you suppose. Completely caught off guard you spit out, “That was just a mistake, today. My potion would have been perfect if…”

“If Longbottom hadn’t stumbled into you, your potion would have been fine. Not perfect, fine. As all of your potions have been lately. Without any drive, ambition, appetite for greatness, you peaked early. Like I said, a waste.” He emphasized the last word, meaning for it to linger in the air, and then turned away as if to end the conversation. 

No fucking way. He triggered something now, this was not over. You didn’t even try to reign in your temper as you spat back, “I have drive, Professor. I’m passionate about the potions I make, and I am still the best in my year.” Not your best, but it’s a start.

“Were.” He said simply, but turned to face you again.

“Am. Today was nothing. I will master the art of potions, I will be the best, and nothing will stop me. I won’t let anything get in my way again.” There was a fire in your eyes that you wished wasn’t there, but it seemed to get his attention. There was a hint of a smile where you feared there’d be rage. 

“We’ll see. You don’t sound like a Hufflepuff right now, perhaps the hat made a mistake,” He mused. 

“I chose Hufflepuff,” You state defiantly. 

“No one chooses Hufflepuff,” He rolled his eyes and turned away again. 

Rude. “I did. Hufflepuff represents the parts of me that I work really hard to lean into. It’s a choice.” 

“What a pity, that you’d choose to be ordinary,” He was testing you now. 

Control yourself, don’t take the bait. “Ordinary is fine.”

“How. Disappointing,” And this time, he walked away into the room connected to the back, making sure to put a firm end to the conversation. 

Ouch. That hurt way more than it should have. You won, you controlled your temper, kept your darkness at bay - mostly. Why didn’t it feel better?

Shake it off. You turn back to face the sink, your professor’s accusations still ringing in your ear. Is he right? Have you gotten too comfortable? Let yourself slip? Realizing for the first time that you’re sopping wet, you remove your outer robe and place it by your bag. On the walk back to the sink, Snape reenters the room, pausing when he sees you, eyes lingering just a moment too long. 

“Finish the cauldrons and then you are dismissed. I have other things to take care of,” And just like that he disappeared again. 

You spent the next hour scrubbing away, and Snape never returned. Exhausted, still wet, and still irritated, you went back to the dormitory. But as you lay awake in bed that night, expecting to be obsessing over your Professor’s words, you find yourself instead obsessing over his stare, and the way his eyes lingered on your shirt beneath your robe.


	4. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm aiming for updates at least once a week now, so I'm almost on track, but it's been a crazy week! Hope you enjoy!

In the cold light of day, the words of your professor did, in fact, echo in your mind. Passion is a safe word. It’s good to be passionate - in fact you would like to be able to describe yourself as passionate - but ambitious? That’s where you needed to be careful. Somewhere inside of you there was fire, a burning desire to rise, to grow, to learn, and to live a meaningful life. But with that came the drive to win, to be the best, to conquer. That cut-throat competitive edge that usually lay dormant inside of you, but was always there like a dark shadow. Ambition in and of itself was not negative, but the dark side it brought out in you was not a part of yourself that you loved. You saw what leaning into that darkness can do, what it did do to your family, and you were determined to never end up where they did. It was best to keep that locked up, shoved down. Joy, light, and positivity was a choice, and a choice you would continue to make, to lean into. Those parts of you were just as true, even more so, than the others. 

But did that mean you had to squash the passion, too? Was being ordinary….”disappointing”? Wasn’t settling for less than what you were capable of just as bad as the alternative? Deciding it was, you vow to redeem yourself in the eyes of your professor - convincing yourself that you were doing it for you, not for him. 

You arrived to potions class early, taking a seat off to the side where no student would need to walk by to gather ingredients: no tardiness, no accidents. Settling in you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of dusty bottles and old leather and something else you could never quite put your finger on. Hopefully today's class would provide the opportunity you were looking for, you were in the zone and itching for a challenge. 

When class officially began, Snape instructed everyone to turn to page 10. Your face lit up - Draught of the Living Death. This was your chance. As simple as the ingredients made it sound, few people were capable of mastering the concoction. It looked like this would be your chance after all. 

After a brief lecture, Snape announces, “If I must remind you, this is not a typical sleeping potion. Those foolish enough to sample it will be left where they are. Few, if any of you will you manage a decent brew, but go gather the ingredients and attempt not to make fools of yourselves.” 

And that would be all the inspiration you needed. Beating the others to the shelves, you gather the powdered root of asphodel, the infusion of wormwood, valerian sprigs, sloth brain, and the sopophorous bean. Carefully, you prep the ingredients ahead of time, so each is set to be added in at just the right time without needing to pause your process to chop. The most important part of the bean was the juice inside, so rather than chop it like the instructions say, you crush the juice out and set it outside. The valerian root was what triggered the sleep and sense of calm in the first place, so you chose the freshest - and therefore the strongest - pieces and prepared a little extra. You set the sloth brain in a small bowl with the infusion of wormwood to allow it soak and further the necessary properties. 

Finally, you begin to brew. Working swiftly, but carefully, you add the ingredients without bothering to look back at the book. In moments, your potion begins releasing blue steam. About halfway through, it reaches a perfect deep-eggplant purple and you felt the jealous glances of the girl next to you. Almost there. Several more methodical stirs and the deep purple eased back to a delicate lilac. A scrupulous final touch and just like that, you potion was clear as water. 

This was it. You smile proudly over your draught and look around at the other students, all of whom seemed to be frantic and panicked, working to avoid the judgemental eyes and snide remarks from your professor. You heard a gasp from the envious girl to your right and looked over in time to see her potion fade to a dull gray. Sympathy overtook you and, knowing it may never be perfect but could be saved, you lean over to offer assistance. Her envious looks turned gratuitous as moments later, Snape walked by your table to check your potions. Glancing in her cauldron, he rolls his eyes at less-than-adequate draught, but moves on without ridicule. At that point she looked like she could kiss you. 

You attention, however, had been drawn away, as your cauldron was his next stop. As he peers down at your work, you stare at his face intensely, searching eagerly for any sign of approval. If there was one to be found, you knew it would be so brief that if you blinked, you’d miss it. After a moment, you caught it, the ghost of a smile. His eyes looked pleased, and oddly a bit smug.

“Not disappointing.” Was all he said, before adding a brief, “You may go” and turning to back to the rest of the class. 

You felt your cheeks flush and your stomach tighten. The hint of approval from the man impossible to please was intoxicating. You’d chase this feeling, you knew that about yourself. 

Packing up, you look back at your professor, watching him scold another Hufflepuff over the thick black substance in their cauldron. His fierce, icy stare could make anyone tremble. But not you. You found that intensity enchanting. How could anyone be so intense one-hundred percent of the time? Who was the man behind that stare? 

Suddenly, his eyes shot in your direction, and you turned swiftly on your heel. He may not make you tremble with fear, but something about when he looked at you… You didn’t want to deal with being caught staring at your professor, anyway, so you walk briskly out of the room and don’t dare to turn around again.


	5. Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter light on Snape himself, but a necessary build! Will update extra this week to make up for it :)

You woke up when you felt the sunlight reach your eyelids. You had a feeling Ally left the curtains open on purpose for this very reason. She would never be rude enough to wake you up, but she was a morning person who was very excited to head off to Hogsmeade, and you were usually slow to start on weekends. 

Stretching beneath the soft cotton covers, enjoying you final moments of comfort, you begrudgingly pull yourself up and out of the blankets. Looking around, you notice Ally’s empty bed. As expected, she was already out and ready, likely waiting for you in the common area. Better make it quick then.

Working quietly as to not wake the others who were happily sleeping in, you slip into a pair of jeans and a tight maroon top, pairing it with brown boots and flowing beige cardigan. After heading to the washroom, you splash some water on your face and comb your fingers through your hair until you're satisfied with what you see. Then, just because you’re in the mood, you gloss your lips with a deep, mild-red before taking one final look in the mirror, and heading out the door. It was always nice to put on something other than your uniform robes. You never really cared about clothing before, but now that five days a week you’re choice was made for you, it felt special to change things up on the weekend. 

Walking down the steps and into the common room, Ally was sitting by the fire, right where you expected her to be. Her face lit up when she saw you and she exclaims, “Y/N!” 

Oh, this sweet early bird. Thank goodness at this point she understood you would need at least another ten minutes to start functioning like a normal human, and paid no mind to your half smile in response to her enthusiasm. Instead she pops up and walks with you to grab breakfast before heading into Hogsmeade nice and early, as planned. 

You have to admit, heading into town this early had its perks. The picturesque little village appeared to just be waking up, with only a few friendly local faces walking the streets and the shops that lined the sidewalks were just opening their doors. It would be a while before the village came to life with hoards of students spilling in and out of all the shops, but you were thankful for that. You prefered the quiet to the busyness. Sometimes, on popular weekends, the crowds were a bit overwhelming. 

The plan was to start with coffee, but Ally got a bit sidetracked. Instead you followed her into Gladrags to help her pick out a scarf, and then to hairdressing salon across the way to get a new bottle of the special shampoo she used on her extra-curly hair. After a few more stops, the village had come to life, and you were about ready for something to drink. 

But then, turning out of the alleyway you cut through, you manage to walk directly into a man exiting the shop on the corner. 

“Oh, sorry! I…” As you gathered yourself back together, you look up and see the familiar intense stare of your potions professor looking back at you. 

“Do watch where you’re going, Y/L/N” He muttered, looking mildly annoyed, as you made him drop the brown paper bag he was carrying. 

“So sorry, professor, I wasn’t paying attention,” You say sincerely, bending down to pick up his bag for him. 

But before you could reach it, his hand swoops down and snatches it back up, holding it tightly to his side, “Obviously.”

To your surprise, however, he doesn’t immediately walk away, and so you smile and say, “What brings you into town, Professor?” 

For a brief moment, you really believe he is going to answer you, as his mouth opens slightly to respond. But then, as if realizing for the first time that you weren’t alone, his eyes catch Ally and narrow slightly. Instead, all you get is, “Stay out of trouble,” before he swiftly walks away. 

“Of all Professors to run in to! And literally! It’s really strange seeing him outside of Hogwarts, but just as terrifying,” Ally states, looking genuinely a bit worried off in his direction. 

“Oh, he’s not so scary,” You reply, curiously looking up at the store he just came from. The sign reads Dogweed and Deathcap, a herbology store. That seems odd. You’ve delivered ingredients to him from Sprout before, and seen him picking things up from the greenhouses on multiple occasions. If he needed something, why not just ask again? You can’t imagine Sprout declining any of his requests. 

“Well that’s easy for you to say! First of all, you’re a potions expert, I still think it’s only a matter of time before you give Professor Snape himself a run for his money! Second of all, you’re just better at handling, or understanding, people like him. They never seem to make you nervous.” 

“Huh?” You turn back to Ally, “Oh, yeah, I don’t know. Hey, can we run in here really quickly?”

“Oh no problem! I feel like I’ve been dragging you all over today! Let’s go.” Ally replied without question.

Walking into the herbology shop, you suddenly feel a bit silly. What could you possibly stand to gain from walking in? There was nothing unordinary about the shop itself, and it’s not as though you could just ask the cashier, ‘hey, what did that man in the long black robes who just left a minute ago buy?’ But, you were already inside, so you walk around and look at the various plants and potions ingredients laid about in the shop.

Finally accepting that you had no idea what you were looking for, and weren’t going to find the clues you hoping for, you turn to Ally and ask, “Ready to head out?”

“Oh,” She says, surprised, “Sure, but, didn’t you need something?””

“Right, yeah, I don’t think they have it,” You reply, starting to move towards the door.

“What were you looking for? I could ask the man up front, maybe he has some in the back?” Ally says, trying to be helpful.

“That’s ok, I didn’t really need it, just wanted to check out prices. Plus I think we’re about to be late meeting Tara!” It worked out well for you that the second part was actually true, and so Ally followed you quickly to the door without asking for further explanation for your weird behavior. 

When the two of you reach The Three Broomsticks, you arrive just in time to see three slytherin boys you recognize as Crabbe, Goyle, and Griffin walk out the door. Strange to see the undynamic duo with someone other than their ring-leader, Draco. The boys have to walk by you to get back to the road, but while you step to the right to let them by, they just seem to spread out and keep walking straight forward, causing you to meet a shoulder hard into your chest, nearly knocking you to the ground. The purposeful bump from the boy at least twice your size hurt more than you were expecting. 

“Ow, hey!” You yell back to them as they keep walking without so much as a halfhearted ‘sorry’. 

Instead of turning around, the boys just laugh, and Griffin yells, “Stay out of our way next time” followed by the whispered “mudblood,” before disappearing around the corner. 

Ally looks horrified, unable to comprehend how people could be so mean totally unprovoked. But you’ve dealt with these boys before, complete dunderheads with nothing better to do than pick on people who looked smaller than them, and nothing going for them except their parents’ money. You wished you could say that meant it didn’t bother you at all, but the word still cut. You’d never let them see it, though. 

“Forget those idiots, come on, let’s go in,” You smile at Ally and walk inside the busy pub full of laughter and smiling faces. The atmosphere instantly lifts Ally’s spirits, and you both head over to find Tara already at a table waiting. There she sat, with her long, jet-black hair and leather jacket, with an arm around the chair next to her. Her face, as always when she was lost in thought, made her look intimidating, which explained why everyone appeared to be giving her some space. But Tara was the one who restored your faith in the Slytherin house years ago. The hard-on-the-surface type who had a heart of gold inside. 

When she saw you and Ally standing by the door, she yelled, “Oye!” and waved you both over with smile. It always made you laugh when younger students looked so surprised to see her and Ally sit next to each other. 

“How was practice?” You asked

“Ugh, I feel like I’m flying with idiots. But it’s fine.” Tara replied.

After a minute of catching up, one of the regular servers brought over three butterbeers, “Here you are, I assume this is what you wanted, it’s the new extra-sweet blend, they’ve been going like crazy all day!” And with that she disappeared again. 

Ally grabbed one, and Tara two, asking “Why didn’t you say anything?” knowing you actually weren’t a huge fan of the stuff, though you seemed to be alone on that. 

“She seemed so busy, it’s really not a big a deal, I didn’t want to be rude,” You replied.

“It’s not rude to order what you want and correct a mistake,” Tara declared, rolling her eyes.

“I’m going to run up and get something else, I’ll be right back!” This was actually the exact opportunity you needed. You zig-zagged your way through until you found who you were looking for, “Madam Rosmerta!”

“Hey there, honey!” She responded, smiling and giving a you a quick side hug. 

“Good to see you! It looks pretty busy in here! I was just wondering if you maybe needed an extra pair of hands in the new few weekends, like last year?”

“Thanks, love,” She started, “But we are actually fully staffed right now. First time in a while, it seems! Ask me again around the holidays, though, and I may have a different answer for you!” 

“Great, will do!” You smile, though disappointed. For now, you’ll order water to save what you’ve got, and try to think of a plan b. Luckily the lack of sugary beverage didn’t stop you from enjoying the rest of the afternoon with your two favorite people.


	6. Potent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was turning into a really long chapter, so I cut it into two smaller ones! Still finishing the now-second, will upload later this weekend!

Another perfect potion. This should be enough to prove to your professor that last time wasn’t a fluke. Your cauldron bubbled and hissed in front of you with a potent poison that you enhanced with a few extra ingredients not listed in the book. The brew in front of you was deadly. 

When Snape walked over to check your potion, he raised an eyebrow curiously, likely at the added potency. But rather than speak his approval, he reached for you. You froze in surprise as you felt him pull something out of your hair. This startled you for a moment, until you remembered that earlier that day, you had woven a flower into your braid. 

He plucked your flower from your hair and released it into your cauldron. Immediately, the potion sucked the remaining life out of the plant. It took less than a second for it to turn from bright white and light pink to black with death. Then, as quickly as it had fallen, it was gone. 

While it meant your potion was a success, it still felt a bit unnecessary. For a moment you were worried he would criticize the additions you made, but when you looked in his eyes, he met your stare with a mischievous challenge. So you pursed your lips, furrowed your brow, and gave him a playful sideways look in return. 

He smirked and said simply, “I needed to test it.” Then, rather than dismissing you, he added, “Please assist the group behind you before they blow up my classroom,” before turning away. 

You felt a familiar warmth in your cheeks, but shook it off before turning around and spotting a furious-looking Hermione Granger standing alongside Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. It was rare that Hermione ever needed help from anyone. She was by far the brightest witch of our year, possibly the entire school. She could outperform you in most subjects, but not potions. Here, you may actually be a step ahead. This was likely due to her need to follow the recipes exactly rather than take a risk. It was not at all your attention to rub it in, however, so you gave her a reassuring smile and offered, “Honestly, the book really messes this one up. The directions oversimplify it, I really don’t know how anyone could be successful from these instructions. Do you mind if I make a suggestion?” Asking before helping would hopefully make you appear considerate and not pretentious. 

Harry and Ron gave enthusiastic and desperate nods, before Hermione sighed in acceptance and responded, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

You made a few suggestions to Hermione’s potion first, correctly predicting that, after a few muffled complaints about how this did not follow the directions, it would click with her quickly and then she could help the others. You then worked your way around to a few more tables to aid in however you could before the end of class. At several points, you could feel your Professor watching you, surely just to make sure you were actually being helpful and not making matters worse, but it felt nice to have his attention. It also it felt good to help your classmates, and watch their faces transform from fear into joy as you helped them correct their mistakes. 

When it was time to go, it you felt satisfied that you helped transform a lot of useless goop into potent poisons - which also made you consider that producing a great deal of poison was an odd thing to feel happy about. Regardless, as you packed up you felt confident that you were leaving in your professor’s good graces. It helped that as you walked out of the classroom, you could feel his eyes on you until you turned the corner, out of sight.


	7. Protego Gone Awry

How had it only been 4 minutes since you last checked the time? You could have sworn it was at least 20. Each minute seemed to be dragging on, unhurried. Had Professor Mcgonagall someone managed to halt the process of time in an effort to force you to spend more time practicing? It felt like it. You’ve been in this class for an eternity.

Or, perhaps you were being a bit dramatic. In all honesty, you could use the practice. And to be fair, you adored Mcgonagall. Her sharp wit, biting sense of authority, and strong female confidence, all alongside an obvious care for her students, was everything you wanted to be some day. She held her students to high expectations, and you respected that, but Merlin’s beard did you wish she taught something besides transfiguration. 

Your first year at Hogwarts, the class caught your attention as much as any other hands on, magic-wielding course. And in a sense, it still did. The ability to transfigure, and therefore hide, objects, and even rooms and passageways, was intriguing and would come in handy. But, the more regular practice of tranfiguring cats into cauldrons and rats into goblets seemed impractical. Why on earth would you ever need to do that? Just get a goblet that’s already a goblet. And could the animals feel when they were transfigured? It felt strange to practice on living creatures, especially when things went wrong.

Logically, it made sense that before you could transform a wall into a secret passage way you would need to start small. You knew that there was a great deal of value in the class and in all of Mcgonagall’s instructions. You should be soaking up every second of it. Logically, you knew all of that.

But right now, in practice, you were just ready for lunch. Your stomach was growling and you were feeling jittery, and on top of it you could not get this spell to work right. Your lack of focus probably had something to do with it. Your professor was still on the other side of the room, but she was moving this way, and you truly hated to disappoint her. So you thought to yourself, shake it off, it’s time to focus. 

Suddenly, from over your shoulder, you hear, “Try softening your wrist. When you cast, you’re jerking it a bit violently. Imagine the shape you’re looking for, and then gently swish your wrist. That might help.”

A glance revealed that Hermione had come to stand next to you to offer help. Her smile was friendly but her eyes showed glee for getting to return last week’s favor from potions. You knew she could be a bit competitive, and worked very hard to earn her reputation for being an extremely talented witch. It was a reputation she wanted to keep, and needing help before likely didn’t sit well with her. If she wasn’t someone who was generally quite kind and who you overall admired, you might hate her a bit. But really, you could relate to that ambition to be the best. Plus, it wasn’t as though things just came naturally to her. You saw the countless hours spent in the library studying. She deserved what she got. 

You smile at her and replied, “Thank you, I’ll try that.”

She smiled back, but before you could delay trying again any further with conversation, she trotted back to her table. Taking a deep breath, you turn back to your table, determined to focus and get it right this time. Taking Hermione’s advice, you gently swish you wand, focus intently, and finally succeed in your assignment. 

You smile proudly as Mcgonagall makes her way over and eyes your work. Giving a curt nod of approval, she orders, “Very good. Now undo it and successfully complete the transfiguration three more times,” before turning to the next student. Of course. 

When class finally ended, you rushed out as quickly as you could without seeming rude, and headed down the stairs to meet Ally for lunch. You now regret agreeing to meet in the corridor instead of in the great hall where you could start eating while you waited for her. You lean against the wall until you see her approaching and start walking to meet her. That’s when you saw them. 

Over Ally’s mane of golden locks, you saw the same three boys who bumped into you in Hogsmeade. Once again, the two goons were sans Draco. Had they gone out and found a bigger asshole to follow around? All three were snickering, and looked suspiciously up to something. You felt your eyes instinctively narrow as it registered that they appeared to have Ally as a target. 

It’s when they got closer that you realize how uncomfortable Ally looks. That’s when Griffin loudly demands, “Well, are you going to answer us, or what? Is it because you’re too stupid, or because you’re blood’s too dirty?” 

Rage ignites inside of you. You find it baffling and outrageous that even these heartless buffoons could be so cruel as to target the sweetest person you knew. Ally was kind to everyone she met; she didn't have a mean bone in her body. You could not imagine a scenario in which she said or did anything to provoke them. She must have just been the first one they spotted after class.

“Bugger off, Griffin! Don’t you three have somewhere to be?” You shout back at them, knowing Ally would never turn around herself. When you finally reach them, you step between them and her. 

“Well if it isn’t the pathetic standing up for the pitiful,” Griffin shot at you, Crabbe and Goyle snickering like morons on either side. “Get out of our way, Y/L/N, we just need an answer from your friend.”

“You’re not getting anything from her. Now sod off,” Shooting your eyes down his body and back up to assess him with disgust, you turn, grab Ally’s arm, and start to storm off. You needed to get away before your temper got the better of you. Them bumping into you and muttering to themselves was one thing, you could be the bigger person, but to target Ally? You’re heart was pounding. 

“Don’t you turn your filthy mudblood backs on us!” You hear behind you, and you whip around in time to see Griffin draw his wand. 

As you see his mouth forming a spell, your wand is already in your hand and you shout, “Protego!” Your intent was to block whatever he was going to throw at you, and walk away with an eye roll.

Instead, your spell not only shot up a protective wall, but blasted against the three boys, sending them flying backwards and hard onto the ground. You stood, wide-eyed, too shocked to take down your wand and turn away, which turned out to be a mistake.

A moment later, you see Professor Snape swiftly approaching from around the corner, investigating the noise. He first spots the boys on the ground, moaning slightly, before seeing you, facing them with your wand out. His expression immediately hardens and his brows furrow as he catches you apparently attacking three students from his house. 

“Ms. Y/L/N! Ambushing students in the middle of the school corridor? Have you gone insane?” He asks through gritted teeth. You could feel his wrath in his words.

“No, professor, she was only…” Ally started.

“Silence!” He ordered. “Detention. Tonight. My office.”

“But professor…”

“And fifty points from Hufflepuff!” He added. 

The shock of the incident faded, and the injustice of the situation had your blood boiling again. Your skin felt like it was on fire as you caught the smirks of the boys who had pulled themselves up off the ground, virtually unharmed. 

“All of you, leave. Now.” Professor Snape ordered. 

There was nothing you could do right now. No way to defend yourself - you’d just lose more points. So you spun on your heel and stormed off. But this wasn’t over. You would bring this to his attention. Tonight.


	8. Control

The rest of the day, all you could think about is what you would say this evening. Hours later, you weren’t ready to let this go. You were usually non-confrontational by nature, but they targeted Ally, completely unprovoked, and then you were punished for defending yourself. Given, you defended yourself a bit more than you intended, but nonetheless, it’s not as though they didn’t have it coming. 

When it was time for detention, dousing yourself in lavender oil in hopes of maintaining the calm composure it took your hours to produce, you head down to the dungeons and to Professor Snape’s office. You arrive to find the door already open, and walk right in before you could start to second guess yourself. You planned this conversation out a thousand times in your head, at this point you were ready for anything. Yet, it was different now that it was actually time to face your professor. You had to speak before your nerves got the better of you. 

“The shelves are filthy. You are to dust them all without magic, and without breaking a single bottle. Perhaps that will help teach you the delicate art of being careful,” was his greeting as you entered the room. 

“Yes, professor, but first, I need to speak with you,” Your voice was firm, but professional, ignoring his snide comment. So far, so good. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, what you did was completely inappropriate and dangerous, you’re lucky the consequences are not far greater. There is nothing you can say to change that, now get to work.” He replied, not even looking up from his desk. 

You decide to meet him in the middle. You grab the rags he left out for you and walk over to the shelves, noticing that there are not actually that many in his office space, especially compared to the classroom. You wonder if this is just the beginning of your punishment. 

As you start to move the objects on the first shelf, you start, “The boys involved in the incident were targeting Ally, Professor. They were following her from class and saying completely horrendous things, it was utterly unacceptable.”

“And yet,” He interrupted, “you took it upon yourself to interfere, violently.”

You could feel your frustration begin to swell up again, “They were not going to leave her alone, Professor, she was outnumbered. And I tried to just walk away with her but they pulled a wand to our back and…”

“And, with the eyes you apparently have in the back of your head, you saw this and decided your only choice was to violently curse them,” He interrupted again, finally looking up from his desk to glare at you. 

“I just casted a shield charm, that’s all, it was defensive!” You retorted. 

“You single handedly blasted three, large male students across the corridor! That can hardly be considered defensive, Ms. Y/L/N.” He seethed in response. 

“I...well...I don’t actually know how that happened.” You admit. 

“It happened because you need to learn to control. Your. temper. You allow yourself to be provoked far too easily.” He spat. 

“I would hardly say that that having a wand drawn at your back is being too easily provoked!”

“There are dangers to allowing your magic to explode out of your control. These are consequences that you need to consider. YOU need to be in control.” 

“I…” That, you actually didn’t have a comeback for. You feel yourself slightly deflate. How DID that happen? You’ve never seen the shield charm do that, and it wasn’t your intention at all. It was like your raw fury in that moment took over, beyond your control. After a moment, you concede, “You’re right.” 

Snape looks mildly surprised, perhaps not expecting you to surrender so quickly. The look faded quickly, however, and was replaced with a warning, “Those who allow themselves to be controlled by their emotions often find themselves making lamentable, irreversible, mistakes.” 

“Yes, sir.” Was all you could think to say. You look away, defeated. He had a point, and there was something in his warning that suggested he knew from personal experience. You weren’t sure how to respond with anything more. 

Snape’s voice softened. “However,” and he pauses for a moment before continuing, “perhaps your little outburst of power will be enough to shut up those dimwits, for a time at least.” 

You jerk your head to him in shock, and stare with your mouth agape for an instant. His expression had softened with his voice. He looked at you earnestly, so you returned a smile a soft laugh. 

You go back to dusting the shelves, a task you now realize was quite mild compared to Snape’s usual detentions. Suddenly, you realize that there was a chance that Snape, while he had to punish you, was going easy on you on purpose. Perhaps there was less injustice to be angry about that you initially believed. 

This was confirmed when you finished cleaning and organizing all the shelves in the office, and announced, “That was the last shelf, Professor.”

You waited for further instructions, but all you recieved was a whispered, “Goodnight, Ms. Y/L/N.” 

A quiet dismissal, given without glancing up at all. But as you left the room, after only a 30 minute detention, you pause at the door to look back at your professor. As he leans over his desk, his flowing black hair drapes down and frames his face and jaw line. His expression is stoic and focused. You take in one final look at the intriguing man before you, who peaks your curiosity so, before finally walking back to your dorm.


	9. Witches' Brew and Blooming Bella

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Ally considers, swirling a small pile of eggs around her breakfast plate. “I want to hang out with you two!”

“You’re going,” Tara said plainly.

“Translation:” You chime in, “you should go. You hang out with us all the time, and we’ll still be around when you’re done. Are you sure you aren’t just nervous?”

“No!” Ally announces, then after a brief pause, “Well, maybe a little. What if I’m awkward? What if he’s seemed really nice so far, but when we spend time together he turns out to be awful? And then I’m just stuck there sipping tea, wishing I was with you!” 

“No, we’ve got that figured out,” Tara declared. “If he acts like an ass, or tries anything, you just send a message with a vanishing scroll - we’ll be close by - and that’s when we come in and kick his ass.”

“Or,” I add, “Fake an emergency, grab you, and run out of there.”

“Either way,” Tara smirked, “Up to you.”

Ally laughed, “You promise?”

Tara and you mime Xs over your hearts and smile. Ally still seems nervous for her date, but starts eating again. It always amazed you to see someone so pretty, so joyful, so well-liked also be so self-conscious and full of doubt. 

When everyone finished, Ally asked, “Is it too early to head into Hogsmeade?”

“Not if we go to Witches’ Brew first. I still haven’t been,” Tara suggested.

“Oh, yes, let’s do that, it’s so good! Plus, if I’m just sitting sitting around here, I’ll get more nervous.”

So you all packed up and went together to the newest coffee shop in Hogsmeade. Since you spent much of your younger years in a highly muggle neighborhood, you could not believe it took them this long to open a coffee-centered cafe, and one that was far more casual and less kitschy than the tea shop. Naturally, it was becoming a big hit amongst students, particularly those craving caffeine and a newer atmosphere for studying than the Hogwarts’ library. 

Yet, it still surprised you how packed the shop was when you arrived. Luckily, soon after you walked in, a group got up to leave, and you were able to take their table. 

Tara held down the fort, mainly because no one would even try asking her for the chairs, and you and Ally went to order: A red eye (black), a french vanilla latte with cinnamon, and a hot cocoa. 

It took a while for your order to come out, but eventually a rushed woman came by and set down the cocoa, piled high with whipped cream, in front of Ally, the latte in front of you, and the red eye in front of Tara. After exchanging a quick glance, you and Tara swap mugs. 

“So sorry ladies, business has picked up faster than expected and is a little more than we can handle at the moment! Do let me know if you need anything else, though.” 

“No problem, we’re in no rush!” Ally reassured her with a glowing smile, taking a sip from her mug. The woman looked pleased, and whisked away to pick up the next order. Meanwhile, you were struck with an idea. After a few minutes of chatting, you excused yourself to use the restroom, and made way to find the woman from before. 

“Excuse me,” You said as you approached, “sorry to bother you, but my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and I heard you mention it’s been rather busy. Last year I worked weekends at the Three Broomsticks, so I have some experience. But this year, Madam Rosmerta is fully staffed, and I’m looking for a new job. So I was wondering if I could be of some assistance here?”

“Hm,” She considered, assessing you, “I have been considering hiring an extra pair of hands, but I’m not sure about a student. Weekends are great, but I really need someone who can cover Thursday nights as well. We have live music, and it gets as busy in here as a Saturday morning.”

“Oh, just one night a week? That’s no problem!” A lie. A terrible lie. Why even say that? Students were only allowed to leave the castle and visit the village on weekends - and not even every weekend. You had to get special permission last year to come more frequently. You highly doubted Thursdays were a real possibility. But, you were getting desperate, and the words came out of your mouth before you even knew what you were saying. Having spare money for weekend trips was one thing, but with the holidays coming up, and eventually summer… It was the summer that was really daunting, as far away as it was. But you weren’t ready to think about that just yet.

The woman looked skeptical, so you added, “I’m already of legal age,” not a lie, “so it’s easier for me to get permission to come more often.” 

Again, the woman considered for a moment, before responding, “Well, alright, why not, I’ll give you a shot. You can start next weekend, I’ll have a schedule ready then. Be here at 6am on Saturday ready to go, and we will see what you’re made of. I’m Diane, by the way.” 

“Great! Thank you, Diane, I’ll be there!” You would allow the overwhelming anxiety of what you would do about Thursdays consume you later. For now, you were excited to have another possibility. 

You practically skip back to the table and sit down, unable to hide your smile. Curious looks from Tara and Ally lead to you saying, “On the way back from the bathroom, I ran into Diane, she’s the one who owns this place, and she offered me a job! I’ll work here now on weekends.”

“Oh my gosh, really? How does that always happen to you! Does that mean you’ll always be busy again this year though?” Ally asked, while Tara just rose an eyebrow at you.

“I guess I just look like I’d make a good waitress,” you muse, “but I think the hours here will be more reasonable, they close earlier.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Ally said, and then suddenly added, “speaking of hours, I think I need to go, or I’ll be late to meet Justin!” 

Looking nervous, despite smiles and last-minute encouragement from you and Tara, Ally left for Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. Justin Finch-Fletchley was a bright and handsome fellow Hufflepuff, but who honestly only ever stood out to you as the boy Harry Potter accidently sent a snake after during a duel your second year. But he seemed nice enough, and Ally was so excited. 

After a few minutes, you and Tara decide to pack up too, and take a walk around the village. It was the perfect fall day - clear skies and just a bit chilly. The changing foliage only made the streets look more charming, with amber, gold, and crimson leaves speckled across the trees that draped over parts of the street. The warm hues and the warmer sunshine made you want to stay outdoors, and you convinced Tara to take a stroll around the shrieking shack. The rumors that it was haunted never scared you off - you live in a castle with ghosts. It provided a bit of a walk, a bit away from the rest of the village, and the views surrounding it were quite lovely. Autumn was like nature’s grand finale before the winter slumber, and you’d like to take advantage.

As you started walking, Tara asks, “So, will this job be enough?”

“What do you mean?” You feign innocence.

“Oh, come on,” She rolls her eyes, “no one just happens upon two different jobs. I know you went up and asked. You don’t need to pretend with me, I’m not going to fawn over you with pity, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that your father probably didn’t leave you anything when he passed last year, not that he was good for much before then anyway.” 

You stayed silent, but you felt a sense of relief over Tara’s bluntness. 

“You don’t have to talk about it all if you don’t want to, but I do want to know, will it be enough?”

“I hope so. I don’t need much at school, obviously, but I want to save for this summer, so I have options. Anything to avoid being sent to my uncle for very long, it would be worse than it was before.” 

“Have you spoken with Dumbledore, or anyone?”

“No.”

And Tara didn’t ask anything else; she demanded no explanation, nor offered any sympathy. You couldn’t have loved her more for that. 

Just beyond the shrieking shack, the two of you lounged upon a large boulder, and laughed over nonsensical things that happened over the past week. It turned into a pretty perfect afternoon. 

As the early fall sunset began to paint the sky, Tara sighed “I have to head back. I have detention tonight.” 

“On a Saturday?” 

“Yup. I may have exchanged a few choice words with our arithmancy professor.”

“Naturally. We should walk by the tea shop anyway, and make sure Ally’s ok, if she hasn’t already gone back to the castle.” 

You arrived back on the main street just in time to see a very smiley Ally leave the shop, holding hands with Justin. You managed to catch her eye from across the street, and her smile widened, giving a curt, subtle nod to indicate that she was ok and would not be needing you that evening. Feeling satisfied, you and Tara began the walk back to the castle alone. 

“She seemed happy. He better not turn out to be arse,” Tara remarked. Tara, who did not always seem to click with Ally as well as with you on the surface, was always fiercely protective of her. It was as though she did not fully understand or relate to Ally’s innocence, but still wanted deeply to protect it. 

“I’m sure he’s fine, he’s always seemed fine,” You reassure her. 

When you reached the castle, Tara left to head to detention, but you weren’t quite ready to head inside yet. It was still far from curfew, and the night was inviting, so instead you went to the greenhouses. Professor Sprout had given you permission to go in after hours to tend to some of the plants you were working on that required extra care. You figured now was as good of a time as any to water and trim them a bit. 

Letting yourself into a greenhouse not used for normal classes, you grab a few supplies and get to work. 

The third plant you turn to is the belladonna, the deadly nightshade used in many poisons, and is quite poisonous in and of itself. It only takes a small handful of berries to kill an adult, and only a few for child. Since the juice from the berries can be absorbed topically, you slipped your gloves on, just in case. 

A fickle plant, you were pleased to see the purple flowers finally starting to bloom, “My, you are pretty for something so deadly. Is this how you lure people in?”

“Are you expecting an answer, Ms. Y/L/N?” A whisper behind you shocks you so much that you instinctively whip around and throw a berry. You have no idea why that was your instinct, particularly as one berry is harmless unless ingested. 

Instead, in horror, you register that the voice is coming from Professor Snape, who you did not hear enter the greenhouse door behind you. He gave you a look that was at once puzzled and annoyed as the berry bounced uselessly off his usual black robes. 

“Sorry, professor! I don’t know, I thought you were an intruder or something, no one else is usually in here at this time,” You stammer. 

“I’m pleased to see that your high marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts are well earned then, as no dark intruder could withstand a tossed berry.” 

You feel your cheeks flush bright red. 

“I’m not sure which question I would like you to answer first, Ms. Y/L/N, but I suppose I’ll begin with: were you just talking to that plant?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t think anyone else was here…”

“Yes, you’ve said that already. So, you frequently speak to plants when alone, then?”

“No, well, sort of,” You tried to regain your bearings, “I’m not really talking to the plants, or at least not conversationally. Studies have shown they grow better when… I mean I don’t expect them to talk back.” 

Snape offered no sympathy, or any words at all. Instead, he continued to watch you stammer for a moment with a stern, yet amused expression. 

“Sorry, professor, what are you doing here?” You attempt in an escape from your current awkward stuttering. 

“Oh no, Y/L/N, you see I am a professor who is allowed anywhere in the castle at any time of day or night, and therefore I require no explanation. You, on the other hand…”

“Oh! I’m not breaking in! Professor Sprout has given me permission to come take care of these plants, they require special attention because…”

“I’m well aware of the needs of the plants in this room,” He interrupts, “and I will be checking with Professor Sprout, so I hope for your sake you are not lying to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you have truly been familiarized with this room, then tell me, where did she move the moonseeds?” His voice sounded as though he were testing you, but you quickly realize he was, in fact, asking for help.

“Oh, she moved those over here,” Walking through rows of plants to the other side of the room, you grab the bowl positioned out of sight. “The next full moon will reflect better over here, and she wanted them in line with the light. Here they are.” 

Snape reached in and grabbed a small handful, added them to a small pouch that he quickly placed back in his pocket, and gave you a small nod to replace the bowl. Surprisingly, he didn’t leave right away. 

“It appears potions are not your only interest, then. What is it, exactly, that you plan on doing?” He inquired. 

Your cheeks warm again before you reply, “I’m not sure, exactly. I would really like to see the world, but honestly, I’ve also always dreamt of becoming a professor.” 

“Hm. Those things are not mutually exclusive.” 

Before you could inquire further, however, Snape abruptly added, “It’s almost curfew. I would suggest finishing up quickly. You may have permission to be here now, but if you are caught outside the dormitories much later I will have no qualms giving you detention. Good evening.” 

And with that, he turned on his heel and marched swiftly out of the greenhouse. You stood in shock for a moment. Did he just ask about your life? Could you have truly earned your professor’s intrigue? Or at least his curiosity? Either was a fiet, as you have heard Snape take interest in few, if any, student’s futures outside those in his house who he was instructed to advise. He left so quickly, but that felt typical of him. Whatever the explanation, the interaction left you smiling while you watered the remaining few plants that required it and quickly left for the common room. You didn’t want to taint tonight’s interaction with the promised detention if you didn’t move quickly.


End file.
